The ground shook.
Ayla fell to one knee as a low rumble thundered through the arena, like a sleeping beast awakening beneath their feet. Around her, the world flickered—walls crumbling not into dust, but into lines of shifting green code, fragmenting the solid stone of the arena floor.
And then… silence.
The sky above shimmered. A pulse of white light exploded from the center of the arena, blinding, swallowing every player in its reach.
When Ayla opened her eyes again, the arena was gone.
In its place stretched an endless forest—towering trees, dark moss crawling up their bark, and mist coiling like snakes around gnarled roots. The leaves above were thick, casting long shadows across the forest floor. The air was damp and heavy with the scent of wet earth and something darker… something metallic.
Blood.
A chime sounded above.
TRIAL 02: THE FOREST OF ILLUSIONS
Objective: Reach the Tower of Truth before nightfall.
Time Limit: 6 Hours
Warning: Hallucinations will intensify. Trust no one. Not even yourself.
Players screamed.
Some ran. Others stumbled in place, disoriented by the sudden shift in scenery. Ayla stood still. The ring on her finger pulsed once, then faded. A moment of calm in the middle of chaos.
Kael had vanished again—of course he had—but the memory of his words still lingered like a whisper at the edge of her thoughts.
You came back to me.
She shook herself. There was no time for that now. The trial had begun.
Ayla took a breath and started walking. Branches creaked above her, moving in ways they shouldn't, like they were watching. The path ahead was barely visible, swallowed by thick underbrush and a creeping haze that smelled faintly of rot.
Behind her, the sound of footsteps. She turned, half expecting Kael again.
But it was a girl—maybe seventeen—with wide eyes and a sharp jaw. She carried a piece of broken metal like a weapon, and her voice trembled when she spoke.
"Are you real?"
Ayla blinked. "What?"
"I saw you die," the girl said. "Back there. In the arena. Your neck was—" She broke off, hands shaking.
"I'm real," Ayla said carefully. "I think."
That didn't seem to comfort the girl.
Footsteps echoed deeper in the forest—others moving, some alone, some in groups. The air grew colder, heavier, and the forest seemed to close in the deeper they walked. The path split ahead, one trail veering toward a stream, the other climbing toward a ridge. Ayla looked at both, then closed her eyes. Something about the ridge called to her. She couldn't explain it—just instinct.
"We should stick together," the girl said. "Please."
Ayla nodded. "Name?"
"Callie."
"Ayla."
They moved in silence for several minutes, only the soft crunch of their footsteps disturbing the quiet. The forest groaned around them—an unnatural sound, like wood bending under a great weight.
They passed a tree that was bleeding.
Red sap oozed from its trunk, the color and texture unmistakable. Callie paused, reaching out to touch it. Ayla grabbed her wrist.
"Don't," she said.
"I just… I thought I saw my brother," Callie whispered. "In the bark. His face. He died before this."
Ayla didn't respond. She didn't have to. Because the moment Callie spoke, Ayla too began to hear something.
A voice.
Faint. Familiar.
Her mother's voice. Calling her name. "Ayla… sweetheart… come home."
She spun in a circle, heart pounding. No one there. Just trees. Shadows. Lies.
"This place messes with your head," she muttered.
"Hallucinations," Callie said. "It's in the rules. We're supposed to ignore them."
But that was easier said than done.
By the second hour, the forest had turned darker. The canopy above thickened unnaturally, blocking what little light there was. The trail seemed to bend and loop on itself, and the air buzzed with whispers.
Then came the laughter.
It started behind them. Ayla turned quickly, but no one was there. Just branches swaying. Then it moved. Ahead of them. Then beside.
Callie grabbed Ayla's arm. "It's playing with us."
Suddenly, a figure appeared on the path ahead. A man. Familiar, but wrong. His eyes were where his mouth should be, and his skin rippled like something wearing a human shape. Ayla felt bile rise in her throat.
"Don't speak to it," she warned.
The figure opened its mouth—its eyes—and screamed. A horrible, raw sound, like metal scraping bone. Callie clutched her head, falling to her knees.
"I see him—I see my brother—he's bleeding—he's—"
"Callie! Snap out of it!" Ayla shook her, slapped her. The illusion twisted around them. The forest bled red light now. Trees began to move, shifting like columns in a maze.
Then the figure stepped forward—and froze.
Because another shape landed in front of it.
Kael.
No one spoke. Not Ayla. Not the illusion. Kael raised one hand and snapped his fingers.
The creature burned.
It didn't scream. It simply disintegrated, falling like ash into the roots. The hallucination forest flickered, and for one heartbeat, Ayla saw a different reality beneath it. A throne. A battlefield. A burning palace. And Kael, standing on top of a mountain of corpses… watching her.
Then the vision vanished. He turned to Ayla.
"You're behind schedule," he said.
"I didn't ask for your help," she replied, but her voice shook.
"You never did."
Before she could say anything else, he vanished again.
Callie was still breathing, her panic subsiding. Ayla helped her stand. "He was real, right?" the girl asked. "That wasn't a hallucination?"
Ayla nodded slowly. "He's real."
They pressed on. With only two hours left, the forest grew more aggressive. Trees rearranged. The path vanished. Sometimes it rained upside-down—water flying into the sky. And worse: the hallucinations now took familiar forms.
Ayla saw herself—an older version, dressed in black, her eyes hollow. "You failed him," it said. "He burned the world for you, and you left him to die."
Ayla screamed, stumbling backward.
"No," she whispered. "That's not true…"
But the hallucination faded, leaving only silence behind.
When they finally saw the Tower of Truth—its twisted spires rising above the trees like a black needle—Ayla fell to her knees in relief. Callie cried.
The final stretch was a field of fog. Whispers turned to screams. Shadows reached out. But they didn't stop. They didn't look back. And somehow, against all odds, they reached the foot of the tower with minutes to spare.
The forest dissolved around them.
A chime sounded.
Trial 02: Complete.
Survivors: 23.
Proceeding to next phase.
The mist cleared.
The Tower of Truth loomed above, doors creaking open. Ayla looked at the glowing ring on her finger—still pulsing, stronger than before.
Something was waiting for her inside.
And she wasn't sure if she was ready to face it.